


Something Good

by reigningqueenofwords



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural AU
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-27 01:43:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18294320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reigningqueenofwords/pseuds/reigningqueenofwords





	Something Good

His pants were covered in paint, but that was nothing new. His strong hands had lead on the side from pencils, there was charcoal under some of his nails, and if you looked closely, some of the freckles on his face might be paint, as well. You carried his lunch into his classroom as he was taking down some dried paintings from one of his classes. “I love how you look like this.” You told him, setting it down on his desk.

He chuckled, glancing over his shoulder to look at you. “Messy?” Dean smirked, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.  

“Well, that…” You nodded, moving over and picking up one of the paintings to look at it. “And at home, relaxed.” You glanced at him. “Don’t get me wrong, I love having you at home, but when you’re here, there’s an air about you.” You set the painting down gently. “It’s like nothing can touch you.”

Setting down the last one, Dean turned and made you face him, his hands on your small, yet growing, bump. “When I’m teaching these kids to draw, paint, shade, and blend…I feel good.” He smiled. “Creating something. Whether that’s a love of art for one of these little guys, or art for their parent’s fridge- it’s something good in the world.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck happily. “Well, you helped me create something amazing, Mr. Winchester.” You reminded him. “And we find out if it’s a boy or a girl tomorrow.”

His face lit up at that. “I can’t wait! Then I can really decorate the nursery.”

“I told you that you don’t have to wait.” You chuckled. “I mean, the colors we picked out are gender neutral anyway.”

“I know, but I wanted to do accent colors. And for that- we need to know if we’re having a Dean Jr, or an Alexis.” Dean always had this look on his face when talking about the baby, and it always made you fall more and more in love with him. “I’m thinking a nice green if the baby is a boy, and maybe a pastel color if it’s a girl.” He mused.

You leaned up and pecked his lips. “You are the artist, you get to choose.” While you were married to an artist, you didn’t have an artistic bone in your body. “But! I brought you lunch.” You smiled, pecking his lips once more before pulling away and taking his hand to tug him to his desk. “I made you home made lasagna.”

Dean let out a groan, making you giggle. “I love your cooking.” He sat in his chair and pulled everything out.

“I’ll leave you to that.” You ruffled his hair and kissed the top of his head. “My mom wants to spend a couple hours together, so I’ll be getting home just before you.”

“Want me to grab dinner on the way home?” He offered, popping open his soda.

You shook your head. “No, I like cooking for you. I’ll whip something up.” You kissed him once more. “Have fun with your classes.”

Dean chuckled. “You know I will!” He grinned.

* * *

Your fingers were laced with Dean’s as you sat in the waiting room. He’d left work early just for this, just to find out what you were having. You’d offered to find out with him, that afternoon, instead of during the ultrasound, but he wasn’t having it. This was something that he had looked forward to since you told him you were expecting.

When you first met Dean, while he was sweet, he wasn’t a relationship type of guy. And you weren’t into one night stands. Somewhere along the line of him trying to get your attention, you fell for each other. Then you saw the other side to Dean Winchester. The one who wanted a big family, the one who was willing to go out in a severe storm to help his friends, the one who always made sure his parents were invited to dinner a couple times a month, and the one who made you feel like you were in a fairy tale.

“Winchester.” Came the nurse’s voice. She was a sweet nurse, in her mid-forties you guessed. Most of your visits, you saw her. Which wasn’t that remarkable when you only came to the doctor’s once a month.

Getting up, Dean gave your hand a squeeze and the two of you followed her, the three of you exchanging pleasantries.

* * *

Leaving the office, you were sure that Dean’s face would be sore that evening. The man couldn’t stop beaming, and talking about all the things he would do with your son. “Fuck, babe!” He breathed as he pulled out of the parking lot. “I mean, I would have been over the moon for a girl, too…”

“But this is your little guy?” You smiled lovingly at him.

He nodded, glancing at you for a moment. “Yeah. I mean, Dean Jr.” He sounded like he might cry he was so happy. “I get to do all the things with him that I never got to do with my dad.” You knew that this was a sore subject for him. His father wasn’t a bad father, just not as present as Dean would have liked. Or needed. Things had gotten better in the three years that you’d been with him, and Dean always said it was because of you. “Playing catch, going fishing, all of that.”

You simply leaned your head back, watching the beautiful man gush over the future of your little family. “I think I’m most excited about getting pictures of you two painting together. Covered in finger paints, hopefully him having your green eyes, some little freckles speckling his tiny cheeks.” You brushed your fingers over his cheek.

* * *

It seemed like in the blink of an eye, his nursery was complete, his tiny clothes put away, and you were in the final countdown of your pregnancy. You found yourself in his nursery a couple times a day, picturing Dean rocking his son to sleep, or changing diapers. The thought never failed to make you chuckle lightly.

Dean had left for work that morning, moving slowly, as he knew your son could decide to arrive at any time. After you assured him that he’d have time to get home, and you to the hospital, he left. Being Monday morning, it was the first time he’d left the house in two days. Once he walked in that door Friday afternoon, he was all yours. It had been a weekend staycation, basically. Enjoying each other’s company, and relaxing. Both of you knew that would all be changing soon.

Come lunch time, you were growing more and more uncomfortable. “Fuck.” You breathed, leaning on the kitchen counter.

* * *

Normally, Dean had his cell phone on silent during class. However, everyone knew that you were due any day now. The kids he taught were young, but not stupid. They had baby brothers and sisters at home, or had friends with younger siblings. So, when he told them one morning that if he got a call, he would have to leave, and his classes would be run by a substitute, they were excited. Especially the little girls. They’d squealed and gushed, talking about their baby dolls.

He chose to teach elementary school kids because they were the most open minded, and almost always the most creative. One thing he failed to take into account was how easily distracted they became.

“Alright, guys, so what I want you to do i–” Dean was standing at the front of a room full of second graders when his phone rang on his desk. “Uh, excuse me, guys. Why don’t you get some paper and draw your favorite animal?”

“Yay!” A few of the kids cheered, while others simply shrugged and did as asked.

Picking up his phone, his heart sped up when he saw your name. “Babe?” He answered, trying not to get his hopes up. For all he knew, you could be calling because you wanted him to grab something specific on his way home. While your cravings had subsided, they still came now and then.

“I think I’m in labor.” You breathed into the phone.

Dean grinned, nodding, even if you couldn’t see him. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.” He told you, trying to keep calm for you.

* * *

You looked over to Dean as he paced in front of the window, his newborn son in his arms. Your eyes were heavy, but you just couldn’t look away. There stood your artist husband, covered in paint, looking completely in love. “No, we aren’t having our second one for at least a couple years.” You said playfully.

Dean chuckled, looking over to you. “Not gonna lie, I’m already looking forward to it.” He told you.


End file.
